


Tell me something true

by vivianblakesunrisebay



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Blow Jobs, Boys In Love, Episode: s06e05 The Premiere, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, healthy communication is sexy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 07:02:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26847877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivianblakesunrisebay/pseuds/vivianblakesunrisebay
Summary: “How do you do that, David?”“Do what?”“Just … ask things like that. Like, straight out.”*David and Patrick talk about healthy communication. And blow jobs.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 79
Kudos: 392





	Tell me something true

**Author's Note:**

> I posted my first fic, Grand Gesture, exactly one year ago today. At the time I thought it might be the only fic I would ever write. A year later, I’m still writing. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Thanks to my wonderful betas, likerealpeopledo and missgeevious!

“Don’t even think about it, Patrick,” David warned. “The doctor said no sucking,”

Patrick was kneeling between David’s legs, his face level with David’s dick. He looked up and said, “That was about straws, David. Sucking through a straw.” He was using his authoritative, these-numbers-don’t-add-up voice, which he knew David had a weakness for, the bastard.

But in this matter, David would not be swayed. He said, “It’s the same concept.”

“I don’t think it is.” Patrick bent his head and nosed along the underside of David’s cock. He gave it a lick, making David involuntarily arch up. It had been too long. Patrick went on, “Besides, I’m fine now. My surgery was a week ago.”

David brought his hands down, meaning to push Patrick away from his dick, but he lost his motivation at the last second and just patted at his shoulders. “You have your follow up appointment today. You can ask then. Once he gives you the all clear, we can do this again.”

Patrick looked up. “You want me to ask my dental surgeon if it’s okay for me to suck your dick?”

“He’s a doctor, Patrick. It’s his job to talk about stuff like that.”

Patrick frowned. He said, “Can’t I just ask him about sucking straws? That’s close enough, right?”

“Then how will we know it’s safe?”

“You just said it’s the same concept!”

David said, “Well, maybe it isn’t. You never know. My cock might be more dangerous than a straw.”

Patrick laughed and put his face back to nuzzle David’s dick. “Oh, it’s very dangerous.” He licked it. “It’s irresistible,” he said. Another lick. “I’m obsessed with it. It’s very dangerous to my mental health.”

David groaned and plucked at Patrick’s shoulders. “See, this is why I’m worried!”

Patrick sighed. “Fine,” he said, giving David’s dick a last little kiss. “But I just want you to know I object to having to get you off with limited tools.” 

Then, as if to prove what he could do with those limited tools, he gave David the slowest, most languorous hand job in the history of hand jobs, a slow slide over his cock with one hand, the other cradling his balls in just the way David liked, then pressing against his perineum, sliding one finger at a time into his ass, brushing lightly against his prostate, edging him over and over, until David was a shivering, begging mess. Then Patrick tightened his grip on David’s cock and looked him in the eye and _commanded_ him to come, and what could David do but obey?

*

“Any other questions, Patrick?” Dr. Young said.

“Uh, yes, I guess—I do have one more.”

“What is it?”

David squeezed his hand encouragingly, and Patrick said, “I was wondering—you mentioned it was safe to use straws again—does that mean—”

He fell silent, a blush creeping into his cheeks.

Dr. Young said, “Yes?”

Patrick cleared his throat. “Well—” He fell silent again.

David took pity on him. He said, “We’re wondering if it’s safe to resume sexual activity. Specifically activity involving”—he fluttered a hand at Patrick’s face—“the mouth area. Anything related to sucking.”

Dr. Young smiled reassuringly. “Oh, yes. I’m sorry, I should have mentioned that. Yes, you should be fine to resume. Just take it easy at first.”

“Thank you,” Patrick muttered, looking down.

“Yes, thank you so much,” David said graciously.

*

“Seriously, you’re adorable, Patrick,” David said when they got home. “You were blushing like a Victorian maiden.”

“You have to give me some leeway here. I’m battling the habits of a lifetime.”

They settled down on the sofa together, and David stroked his hand over Patrick’s shoulder. “Maybe we’ll just have to feed you dental anesthetic once a month to get you talking. You sure were chatty then.”

Patrick laughed. “I wish I could remember it all. We mostly talked about the _Bridget Jones’ Baby_ -induced babbling.”

“And you’re sure that’s all it was? Babbling?”

“Yes, David, I’m sure.”

“You know, your parents probably wish you’d give them some grandkids.”

“Putting aside the fact that that would be a terrible reason for us to have kids, they’ll be fine. My cousins are starting to pump out babies like they’re having a competition,” Patrick said.

“They’re Brewers. They probably _are_ having a competition.”

Patrick laughed. “Okay, fair.”

“And you’re sure you don’t want to—um, compete?” David believed Patrick on this—he did. He just wanted to hear it again.

“David,” Patrick said, turning to David and taking his hands. “I really don’t want kids. Don’t you believe me?”

“Well, I think it’s just that you have, like, serious dad energy.”

Patrick said, “Well, I do think my cousins will give me plenty of opportunities to be an uncle-type figure. I’m kind of looking forward to being the gay cousin.”

“Hm, that’s true."

“And who knows, maybe I could—I might be able to …help someone, maybe. Chances are, one of my cousins’ kids is probably going to be gay, or pan, or something, and I’ll be there to serve as an example of the non-heteronormative life.”

David put his hands on Patrick’s shoulders. “That’s a nice thought. I could see you being a mentor to a little Patrick.”

Patrick looked up with a rueful smile in his eyes, and David could see they were having the same thought—that if Patrick had had a gay uncle or cousin to look to, he might have figured things out sooner.

David leaned over and gave Patrick a quick kiss on the lips. Patrick caught him with a hand behind his head and pulled him in for a longer one.

David said, “So now that the doctor has given you the all-clear, do you want to …” He trailed off suggestively, walking his fingers down Patrick’s chest.

“Yes, I do—very much,” Patrick said. “But can we snuggle a bit first? Between the wedding and the store, it’s been awhile since we’ve had a quiet afternoon together.”

“Mm, yes, that sounds nice,” David said.

They curled up on the couch. David got his phone. The Downton fic he was reading had updated. He tucked himself against Patrick’s side. Patrick got out his phone too and started catching up on fantasy baseball or football or whatever.

After David finished his chapter, he looked up from his phone. “Oh, I know what else you said, when you were high, that I wanted to ask you about.”

Patrick looked up. “Don’t try telling me again that it was for you to order a sweater from the new Belladonna collection. Because there’s no way I would say that.”

“It’s Balenciaga, Patrick, and believe me, you were crystal clear.”

“I can’t even pronounce that when I’m in full command of my faculties.”

“Well, I know what I heard—but anyway, that’s not what I was talking about.”

“What is it, then?”

“Well, while you were telling me what a great dad I would be, you said you wished I was _your_ dad.”

Patrick laughed. “I did?”

David said delicately, “So, um, if that’s like a kink thing you’ve been holding back about—”

Patrick made a face. “Ew, no.”

“Think before you say that Patrick. You know what I’ve told you—”

“That something can be kind of gross and still be hot, I know.” Patrick took David’s hand and kissed it. He was silent, mulling it over. Then he shook his head decisively. “Nope. I’m sure that isn’t something I want to explore.”

“Okay then. Just checking.” David went back to his phone. After a moment he sensed Patrick was still looking at him, and he looked up. 

“What?”

“How do you do that, David?” 

“Do what?”

“Just … ask things like that. Like, straight out.”

“Sex things?”

“No, well, maybe,” Patrick said. “But, you know I’m getting better at that.” His hand stroked down David’s thigh.

“You are,” David said. “Like that time you asked me to dress up as that baseball man. Now that’s kinky.” 

“Mm,” Patrick’s eyes got a faraway look. “Carlos Delgado.You were so sexy in that jersey.” He leaned in to give David a kiss where his neck met his shoulder.

“Oh, I’m not arguing with the results,” David said, giving a pleased hum. “It was very nice to receive a celebratory blow job without having to do the baseball first.”

“You know that jersey is still in my closet, David. I could get it right now,” Patrick said. His hands stroked over David’s sweater like he was imagining it was that hideous jersey instead of a very nice 2014 Dries van Noten.

“Well, not right now. I have to work up to putting polyester on this body.” He gave a little shimmy.

Patrick laughed and leaned in and kissed him again, with more purpose. “Well, I’m interested in giving you a celebratory blow job right now, with or without the jersey. Now that the doctor has given us the okay.”

“Even better,” David said, and kissed him back.

They went over to the bed and stripped out of their clothes. “Remember he said to take it easy,” David said.

So Patrick took it easy. Very easy, but very, very thorough, using his lips and tongue to suck and lick at David’s body. By the time Patrick finally got to his cock, David was whimpering and pleading; Patrick gave a soft hum of pleasure as he finally, finally took him deep, his mouth moving with a slow, easy, unhurried rhythm, until David came with a cry into that warm, wet heat.

“Show off,” David said weakly, when he got his breath back.

Patrick surged up and kissed him. 

“You love doing that,” David said. “Sucking my cock.”

“Yeah, I do,” Patrick said softly. “I really do, David. I’ve been missing it.”

David reached down and stroked over Patrick’s cock. Patrick pressed into his hand. 

“You want me to put on the jersey?” David murmured. “It’s the least I can do after that.”

“Not this time,” Patrick said. “I just want you. Your mouth.”

So David pushed Patrick on his back, and pulled out all the stops to give him a most excellent blow job, licking and sucking and taking his time, making Patrick thrash and moan and pull at his hair.

He could get competitive too.

*

Afterwards, they cuddled up together, Patrick behind him as the big spoon. 

Patrick said, “I think I know what I meant by that, when I said I wished you were my dad.”

“Really? What?”

“I’ve thought before that—and you know I love my dad, I love my family. I know they love me. It’s just—when I look back, sometimes I wish they’d been more like—well, more like you.”

David braced himself for the punchline, but Patrick didn’t say anything else. Finally David said, “Are you serious?”

Patrick said, “Yes, I’m serious. I just wish my parents had just put it all out there more. I think kids—it helps if they know what you’re feeling, and what you expect from them. So they’re not straining all the time trying to figure it out. Trying to read between the lines.”

“It’s true I don’t leave anyone guessing about what I want,” David said, with a grimace.

Patrick gave him a little squeeze. “And you don’t know what a relief that is.”

“Well, I know words have to be pried out of you with a crowbar, but having the opposite problem isn’t a picnic either.”

Patrick just ran his hands lightly over David’s arms, and pressed a gentle kiss into his neck “Well, I like it. And when you care about people, you’re there for them in every way. Look at the way you’ve looked after Alexis your whole life.”

“Mmkay, that was not—”

“You’re very nurturing,” Patrick said.

David turned to face him so he could give him the full effect of a raised eyebrow.

Patrick said, “You are, you know. In your own unique way.”

David laid his head down on the pillow. “Your opinion can’t be trusted,” he informed Patrick loftily.

“Why’s that?”

“You’re biased, because you love me.”

Patrick said, “That doesn’t make sense. Isn’t that the way it’s supposed to work? You love me, right? Do you think that means your opinion about me can’t be trusted?”

“Mm, but the difference is, I am seeing you clearly, and you aren’t seeing me clearly.”

“David,” Patrick said, his eyes softening. “I see you _very_ clearly.”

“Well you did tell me when you were high how perfect my skin is, so you might have a point there."

Patrick laughed.

David reached out and touched Patrick’s still-flushed cheek,. “You really are giving me too much credit. My family and I weren’t exactly awesome communicators either. Just because we don’t hide how we’re feeling doesn’t mean we communicate well.”

Patrick said, “Well, I just think a kid with you as a dad would never grow up thinking that the way to deal with problems is to pretend they don’t exist.”

David was quiet for a moment. “Okay, I’ll give you that,” he said. 

Patrick leaned in to kiss his forehead, and David knew what they were both thinking about.

Patrick said softly, “I’m not blaming my family for my communication issues. But it would be stupid not to recognize where I learned to act that way.”

David lay down on his back and pulled Patrick down until he was resting on his shoulder. “You’re getting better at telling me things. And not just sex things.”

A new note crept into Patrick’s voice, eager and hopeful. “You think so? I’ve been working on it.”

“Yes,” David said. “I trust you to tell me when it’s important. That’s why I believe you when you tell me you’re okay with not having kids.”

Patrick said softly, “Thank you, David.”

David stroked Patrick’s arm meditatively. “And, like—now, when you’re annoyed with me, you tell me? Which is actually kind of irritating. I’m thinking maybe you should bottle that back up again.”

Patrick laughed. “Mm, too late, sucker. You’re stuck with it now.” He leaned in and gave David a smacking kiss on the cheek, and then rolled out of bed.

“In the interest of open and honest communication,” Patrick said, getting out a fresh pair of underwear from the dresser. “I should share that I would like to go out for tacos for dinner.” He bent over to put them on.

David sat up to admire the view. “Mm. But my truth? Is that I want to stay in bed, and order pizza.”

Patrick reached for his jeans. He said, “Well, my ‘I’ statement is that _I_ want tacos and _I’ve_ been on soft food for a week so _I_ think I should get my way.” 

David crawled out of bed and reached for his clothes. “If we go out to that new pizza place in Elmdale I could order pizza and you could get lasagna.”

“But you promised you would make me a lasagna, David.”

“Um, I certainly did not.”

Patrick said, “Well, my truth is that you did.”

“Well, you have fun being alone with that truth.”

Patrick pouted a little. “What if, in the interest of compromise, we get tacos tonight, and tomorrow I make lasagna for both of us? Marcy Brewer’s special recipe.”

David pursed his lips. “All right,” he said. “I will accept this.”

Patrick beamed. “Great.”

David pulled on his t-shirt and sweater. He said, “Well, between you communicating and me compromising, we need to celebrate being so emotionally healthy.”

“Between tacos tonight and lasagna tomorrow, emotionally healthy is the only kind of healthy we’re being right now,” Patrick said. He finished lacing up his shoes. “Ready to go?”

“Are you kidding? With this sex hair?” David headed to the bathroom. “I need at least fifteen minutes."

“But I’m hungry, David,” 

David called back, “Learn to keep your hands to yourself during a blow job, and you wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Patrick opened the bathroom door to poke his head in. “All right David, I promise from now on to keep my hands out of your hair during sex.”

David frowned at him in the mirror. “All right, let’s not go crazy.”

Patrick laughed at him, and David waved him away. 

As David focused on getting his hair to an acceptable, taco-truck-ready level, he thought about one more emotional truth: he was happier than he’d ever been. It was real and lasting and no amount of hair-rumpling or food-compromising could change it. 

Maybe he’d share that truth with Patrick tonight. Patrick already knew it, that cocky bastard, but David would probably tell him anyway.

He was the good communicator in this relationship, after all.


End file.
